


Operation: Woo

by VCCV



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 12:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11035914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VCCV/pseuds/VCCV
Summary: Puck learns about the mating rituals of various animals in one of the few Bio classes he decided to attend. When he discovers he likes Kurt like that, he's at a loss for what to do, so he decides to take a page out of the books of more primitive beings in order to woo the boy who dislikes (and probably fears) him.





	Operation: Woo

**Author's Note:**

> for lezi

Puck leaned his head on his hand and heaved a big sigh. Biology. What was the point? You’re born. You live. You die. Throw in some sex and food, and Puck was a happy camper. 

He didn’t hate just the subject. He really didn’t like the biology room, either. There were pictures everywhere of inside parts that should have stayed on the inside. There were jars of creepy weird things floating in jars of cloudy liquid, and they always seemed to be looking at him.

And the skeleton in the corner? Mr. Agee called him Fred. Puck was pretty certain that, at one time, Fred had possessed those living parts in the pictures and jars. Mr. Agee always gave this serial killer grin whenever he used Fred for demonstration.

He flipped through the huge biology book. H vaguely remembered Mr. Agee telling them that the study of reproduction was up next chapter, and since he didn’t give a shit about…WTF were they studying today, anyway? Something about cells. He shrugged. Whatever. 

The color pictures of animals in their various habitats were more interesting than cutaway diagrams of the inside of inside parts that should have stayed on the inside. Especially since his mom had found the porn pics on his cell and deleted them. He didn’t know what had bothered her the most. That there was porn on his phone, or that the porn was gay. Anyway.

A pair of colorful birds caught his attention. He frowned. Stupid birds had it easy. Whistle a tune and fluff up their feathers and voila! Happy mate that wants to be with you. He frowned harder as he looked around his biology class, full but for one Kurt Hummel.

He wasn't absent. Puck definitely knew that. He'd watched Kurt come to school this morning, just like he had for the last three weeks. Puck had found a fantastic place to wait for Kurt to arrive each day. And it wasn't like he was lurking in the bushes or something. 

No, his hidey-hole was right out in the open. If Kurt cared to look around, Puck would be easy to spot; standing partially behind the partition separating the second water fountain on the left in the freshman hall from the doorframe to Ms. Richard's room. Practically in plain sight.

And it wasn't like Puck was stalking Kurt, either. That Puck happened to be looking out the window entrance of that freshman hall at exactly 7:38 a.m. when Kurt arrived was a complete coincidence. It was sheer luck that the window entrance happened to overlook the west parking lot where Kurt tended to park his baby. 

And Puck was merely being a good friend when he hung out at the end of the hall that Kurt's locker was in. He was trying to keep an eye out for any would-be slushers who hadn't understood his last message regarding leaving Kurt alone. He thought the message had been delivered clearly and relatively kindly. Frankens had emerged with only one broken limb. Really, people should congratulate Puck on refraining as he did from excessive violence. He even gave them a second warning in the form of 'Back off Kurt Hummel' in black sharpie marker on the cast encasing Frankens' arm. Strangely, no one else had wanted to sign it after Puck had written that, so the warning remained the only thing on the stark white plaster.

But, he digressed. His point was that, though Kurt Hummel was at school, he was not in his assigned seat in first period Biology class. Not knowing Kurt's location made Puck cranky. Not being able to stare at Kurt's profile—in a totally non-creepy way—from one seat back and to the right made Puck bored. Which brought him back full circle to flipping through Chapter 8: Reproduction in the Animal Kingdom. 

On every page another picture of a happy—or so Puck guessed—animal frolicked through the grass or water or whatever its natural habitat was. It kind of made Puck sad. Why couldn't his chosen partner be pleased like this at his advances? His desired mate spent most of his time running away from Puck, terror in his eyes. Puck sighed, running a finger over a picture of a proud, beautiful peacock next to his chosen peahen. 

Then, like lightning, it hit him. Humans were really just smart animals that wore clothes and liked football, right? So, what if he did the things that got these animals their mates? Shouldn't Kurt be susceptible on some lower subconscious level? Couldn't Puck woo his beloved using the time-honored tricks from the animal kingdom? Puck sat up straighter in his chair and frowned in concentration as he flipped back to the beginning of Chapter 8. This may just work.  
____________________________________________

Kurt took a deep breath as he stepped out of his SUV. He pasted a smile on his face and turned to walk to the building. It's a beautiful morning! I really love my new Ralph Lauren sport coat. Oh, goody! There's Puck, stalking me from behind the water fountain, again. Kurt's hand trembled as he raised it to smooth down an imaginary piece of flyaway hair.

He spotted Mercedes waiting at the edge of the parking lot and a wave of relief washed through him. He sped up. "Mercedes!" Mercedes smiled her thousand-watt smile, linked arms and pulled Kurt into a group of students walking into the building.

"He still following you?" she asked, dodging a freshman with a towering armload of books. 

"Still creepily hiding behind the drinking fountain."

"Boy, you got to just go up and ask him what he wants." 

Kurt looked at her in horror. "Are you insane? What if he's moving past dumpsters and into something far more nefarious?"

"Nefarious?" Mercedes pursed her lips.

"Yes, nefarious!" Kurt insisted.

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Whatever. The boy obviously wants to talk to you."

"So, what's stopping him?" They reached the section that held their lockers and began dialing the combo. "He's never had a problem conversing before. I can't count the number of times he's spoken to me. 'Hey, Tinkerbell! Move it, Queer Eye! Out of the way Fairy Dust!'." Kurt rolled his eyes. "I can't imagine Puck finding himself speechless."

"But this time, he's not in your face." Mercedes pointed out. "Maybe he actually wants to talk,he just doesn't know what to say." Mercedes spun the final number and opened her locker.

"He's had three weeks worth of time to figure that out." Kurt opened his locker as well. "That's the equivalent of at least three days in normal people time." He unzipped his bag and pulled out his history book. "Even the Hulk managed a word or two."

Mercedes giggled. "Puck crush." Kurt grinned back at her. As he traded History for 1st period Biology, his eyes fell on a many times folded piece of paper. Curious, he pulled it out.

"What's that?" Mercedes craned her head to look.

"I have no idea, but I know it isn't mine. I keep a very fastidious locker space, as you well know."

Mercedes rolled her eyes again. "You're a real Martha Stewart. Open it already!" Kurt leveled a disapproving stare at her, but unfolded the paper anyway. "What is it?" Mercedes eagerly snagged it from his hands.

"Excuse me?" Kurt huffed and snatched it back. "Rude much?"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What does it say?"

Kurt cleared his throat and began to read. "Just thought you should know. I caught Puck doodling hearts and 'NP loves KH' inside them. He looked pretty freaked when he saw me watching him. I think this may be genuine."

The two of them stood motionless for long moments, and then Mercedes let out a whoop and broke into laughter. "Well, honey, I guess you know what he wants now!"

Kurt flushed red, but couldn’t take his eyes off of the note. Mercedes had to lean against the locker to keep from laughing herself to the floor. "It's not 'Puck crush', it's 'Puck has a crush'!" 

Finally, Kurt was able to tear his eyes away from the paper. "Shut up, Mercedes," he snapped. "This is serious. What am I supposed to do now?"

Mercedes tried to calm herself down, only briefly sliding back into snickers. "You're going to wait him out. If he's serious, he'll up the ante soon. Then you'll know for sure."

Kurt frowned. "Okay. So, I find out if he's serious. Then what?" Mercedes linked her arm with his again and leaned in. "Then, my dearest Kurt,you have to decide if you're serious. And if he's worth upping the ante for."

She turned his arm loose and patted his cheek. Then she walked away. "What ante?" Kurt called out, shrilly. Mercedes continued down the hall, ignoring Kurt's increasingly frantic queries. "What ante, Mercedes? What's an ante?"

He glared at her back, and then finished emptying his bag into his locker. This called for some thought. Some serious soul searching. This, he decided, called for some retail therapy. He shoved his Biology book back onto the shelf. To the mall…  
__________________________________________

Puck didn't see Kurt for the rest of the morning. When he ran out to the parking lot at lunch, Kurt's SUV was gone. He was tempted to mope, but realized he had a lot of work to do, and it was probably easier to focus on that when Kurt wasn't there distracting him.

He spent his own afternoon skipping class again, but he didn't go to the nurse's office. He went to the one place that no one would look for him: the library. He hit the Internet like a man possessed, copy/pasting paragraphs onto a word doc that, when he printed it out at the end of the day, was over 10 pages long. Satisfied, he headed home to plan.

The first thing he had to decide was: should he come out? It was a monumental step, but he knew that a guy like Kurt wouldn't want to hide in the shadows. And he shouldn't. Kurt was magnificently out and proud. He deserved a boyfriend who would hold his hand in the halls; kiss him goodbye between classes; take him to dances. The more he thought about it, the easier it became. How could he expect Kurt to love him when he couldn't love himself enough to be honest and unashamed? That decision made, the rest just fell into place.

First, peacocks. 

The peacock preened its feathers to make them bright and shining and beautiful enough to attract the mate he wanted. Puck didn't have feathers, but he did have something he could improve on. Kurt had commented a million times on how stupid Puck's mohawk was. Puck ran his hand over the short, raised strip. He smiled. Stage 1 of Operation Woo was about to commence.   
_________________________________________

The next day, Kurt came to school in a fantastic mood. And why shouldn't he be? He'd found the most amazing Jimmy Choo loafers while shopping yesterday. He planned on rubbing Mercedes' face into the fact that, had she not been such a bitch, she could have skipped with him. 

He also felt uplifted now that he knew Noah Puckerman wasn't out to kill him, though the truth was almost as disturbing. So, he was rightfully irritated when he was not allowed to keep his good morning buzz. Mercedes wasn't waiting for him, and when he surreptitiously glanced over at the freshman entrance, neither was Puck. Puzzled, and a tiny bit disappointed, he continued into the building. When he arrived at his hallway he was further frustrated to see a huge gathering blocking his access.

He'd just managed to scare off a couple of the outliers when Mercedes came bustling through, scattering onlookers. Kurt didn't even have a chance to build up a good head of steam for his rant before she snatched his arm up and dragged him back through the crowd. "Oh, you have got to see this, white boy," she called back to him. "You won't believe it unless you see it for yourself." She ground to a halt and hauled Kurt up beside her. 

There in the center of the storm, stood one Noah Puckerman. Gone was his trademark mohawk. His hair was neatly buzzed all the same length. Kurt stood staring stupidly until Puck noticed him. A huge smile lit up Puck's face upon spotting Kurt, resulting in a strangely warm tickle in Kurt's stomach.

"Hey, Kurt!" Puck said, moving toward him. "Good morning."

"Morning," Kurt echoed.

Puck shook his head…fondly? Then he pointed to his hairline. "You like it?" he asked, nervousness in his every gesture. Kurt blinked again and finally dropped his gaze down to catch Puck's. 

He smiled. "I actually do. It makes you look more mature."

If possible, Puck beamed even brighter. "Thanks," he said, ducking his head slightly. "I'm glad you like it." He took a step back and raised a hand. "See you in Biology."

"In Biology," Kurt echoed absently.

Puck calmly strolled back to his locker to pull out his first period book, but in his head, he was skipping. Stage 1 completed. Status: successful.   
_________________________________

"Artie just called me," Mercedes said.

"Mmm?" Kurt replied, only half listening to her. It was interesting. It wasn't like the mohawk was long or anything, but without it distracting him, he really noticed Puck's green eyes. 

He snapped out of it when he felt a pinch on his delicate underarm. "What the hell?" he demanded, jerking away from Mercedes and trying to inspect the damage.

"Pay attention, then." Mercedes pursed her lips and widened her eyes pointedly.

"Fine," Kurt grumbled. "What is it?"

"Artie called me," she repeated.

"Okay, and this is Earth-shattering news why?" He continued to rub his bruised arm.

"Artie told me that he got a look inside some super-secret notebook that Puck's been hiding for days."

She looked excited, but Kurt just rolled his eyes. "He probably has his plans in there for world domination by way of slushes."

Mercedes smiled slyly. "Oh, he has plans, all right. But not for world domination. More like, Kurt Hummel domination."

Kurt's hand slowed and then stopped. "What are you trying to say, Mercedes?"

"That notebook is full of weird notes on animal courtship." She looked thrilled with herself, but Kurt had no idea what rabbit hole she'd just jumped into. He squinched his eyes up and regarded her as though she were a crazy person.

"Courting behaviors as applied to human relationships," she added, rolling her eyes. Kurt still looked dumbfounded. "It's a notebook full of 'how can I use Mother Nature's love techniques to get me some of one Kurt Hummel's ass'!" she finally snapped.

"What the hell are you on, Mercedes?" Kurt frowned in concern.

"The haircut?" Mercedes raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah?"

"Peacock."

Kurt's frown grew deeper. "Are you brain damaged?" 

Mercedes whacked him on the same arm she'd pinched, and he yelped. "Peacock! It was, and I quote, 'Stage 1 of Operation: Woo'." 

Kurt blinked. Then blinked again. Then mouthed, 'Operation: Woo'?

"Yeah. Stage 1--Peacock. Stage 2," Mercedes grinned, "is something called a bowtie bird, or whatever. He's taking dating tricks from all these different animals and trying to get your attention."

"So, he's making fun of me?" To Mercedes' surprise, he looked little disappointed. 

"No, honey. Aren't you listening? He's doing all of this…animal courtship thing because he likes you. He wants to get with you." She grinned proudly, looking highly satisfied with herself.

Kurt shook his head slowly, and Mercedes sighed. "Don't be an idiot, white boy. Remember the hearts and the initials that Artie told you about? Puck likes you, but, you don't have boobs and you aren't a bimbo, so he has no idea how to pull you in."

Kurt still looked unconvinced. "Why would he want me in the first place, though? What if this is some secret plan to get me to fall for him and then dump me in public?"

"It's not."

"But how do you know?" Kurt asked plaintively. Mercedes sighed again.

"Trust me, Kurt." Kurt's expression was pinched and his eyes kept darting back and forth as if he were expecting Puck to jump out at any time and laugh at him. Finally, he heaved a shaky breath.

"Fine. But when he dumps me and breaks my heart, I reserve the right to cry on your shoulder."

Mercedes' diva faded away and she pulled Kurt into her arms. "It won't happen, honey. But, I will be there for you, no matter what. And if he breaks your heart, I'll break his kneecaps."

Kurt giggled, wiping discreetly at his eyes.  
__________________________________________

Stage 2 of Operation: Woo required a bit more planning. It took Puck several days to gather all the supplies. He made sure, though, during those days, to find reasons to parade in front of Kurt, rubbing his stubbly head. Whenever someone asked him why he'd done it, Puck made sure to have eye contact with Kurt before smiling and saying, "A friend wasn't all that fond of the mohawk." It never ceased to illicit a slight blush from Kurt, and an excited thrill in the bottom of Puck's stomach. He hoped to continue those responses with the next step in his plans of love.

Next, the bowerbird.

The male bowerbird redecorated his home with things he hoped would impress his future mate. Well, Puck certainly couldn't redecorate his actual home. And really, how would he even get Kurt there to see it? So, no home, but he did have a locker. 

Puck met him at Kurt's locker, and he reveled in Kurt's shy blush. "Kurt, I've got a question on some math homework. I know you're really smart, and I was hoping you could help me out with it?"

Kurt looked baffled for a moment. "Homework? You did…homework?"

Puck chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, I did. So, how about it?"

"Uh, sure?"

"Great! I've got it in my locker." Puck stepped back and waited. Kurt fumbled his books as he moved after him. "Hey, here. Let me get that for you." Puck neatly plucked the books out of Kurt's hands. He then jauntily headed down the hall to his own locker before Kurt could form a coherent protest.

Puck stopped in front of his locker and Kurt slid in beside him, putting his back to the lockers. He warily watched the hall for trouble. He regularly avoided the jock/cheerleader part of the hall for a reason. They didn't much like trespassers. He heard Puck open his locker and waited a moment while Puck fiddled about in it. "Okay, here it is."

Kurt turned to find Puck leafing through his math book, but, what really caught his attention was the contents of his open locker. The back held a magnetic mirror, much as Kurt's did. But there the similarities ended. The sides were peppered in sheet music. Some were titled and familiar; some were clearly originals composed on notebook paper, or post-its, and in one case, a lunch napkin. 

Scattered amongst the papers were pictures. Dozens of them. Kurt saw several of a middle-aged woman and a little girl. Others had those two as well as Puck. He was smiling in those, arms around who Kurt assumed were his mom and little sister.

There were football pictures, both team and candid. He even had Glee photos up. There were the obligatory 2x3 school pictures of friends like Finn, Quinn, Matt and Mike. Much to Kurt's surprise, he found one of him. Where Puck would have gotten that was beyond Kurt. But, having once seen something, one sees it everywhere. Kurt picked himself out in every Glee shot, and not too few football shots. He even found a picture of himself alone, sitting on the bench during practice, staring off into nowhere.

"Kurt?" Kurt shook his head in an attempt to clear it, and he realized that Puck must have called his name several times. He flushed, but Puck just smiled and held open his math book. Feeling slightly out of touch with reality, Kurt read through the problem and then answered it. Ten seconds after answering, he couldn't even recall what the problem had asked, but Puck's grateful smile seemed burned into his retinas. 

Mercedes grilled him on the situation at lunch, but eventually, even she gave up. All she could get out of him was an absent-minded 'hmmm'? Puck watched it all from the safety of the jock's table. And if another player thought anything odd about Puck's vague smile and tendency to stare at the nerd table, no one said so. 

Stage 2—successful.  
______________________________________

Step 3 of Operation: Woo came from the tiny mosquito. After reading about them, Puck realized that he would actually feel guilty for swatting the next one. He discovered that when the two mosquitoes were courting, one would slow down and one would speed up their wing beats until they matched, producing a sound much stronger than either of them could have managed alone. If Puck weren't allergic to the word, he might even have called it romantic. But, figuring out how he and Kurt could harmonize was more difficult than romantic.

Puck spent days combing through song after song on Kurt's iPod, which Puck had of course snitched when Kurt was distracted. Kurt had some eclectic tastes, for sure, and Puck couldn't figure out which song would strike the right kind of harmonious result.

So, he decided to ask for help. He conveniently 'found' the iPod that Kurt had spent days looking for. Puck felt slightly guilty at the relief on Kurt's face once the music player was back in hand.

"Oh, thank you so much!" Kurt said, clutching it to his chest. "I thought it was gone for good."

Puck raised an eyebrow and Kurt blushed. "I know it sounds over the top. I could easily replace the songs," he assured Puck. "It's just…my dad gave it to me. He actually managed to upload songs to it without any help!" Kurt smiled fondly.

"He added songs that he and my mom liked. He told me…he said he wanted me to always have a connection with my mom through something we both loved." Kurt caressed the little machine and smiled sadly.

Puck didn't know what to say. He'd blown right past thieving jerk and straight into insensitive douche. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, his head lowering.

"No, it's okay." Kurt shook his head, placing a restraining hand on Puck's arm. "I'm just glad you found it." Puck nodded weakly.

"So." Puck changed the subject. "What's your favorite song on there?"

Kurt shrugged. "I love them all for different reasons. I think my very favorite is Up Where We Belong."

Puck frowned. "That's not even on a pla—er, really? Why is that?

Kurt shot him a smirk. Puck felt a moment of panic that Kurt knew what had actually happened to the iPod. Kurt graciously ignored Puck's nervous smile and continued. "I know; it's old and sappy and very cliché, but, it was the song my parents first kissed to, first danced to and they used it as their wedding song." 

Kurt smiled, vaguely staring over Puck's shoulder. "My mom was so beautiful in her wedding dress. White daisies in her hair and Dad looking so proud." He brought his gaze back to Puck's face and flushed again. 

"Sorry. That's probably TMI. I just think it's romantic. That's the kind of relationship I want one day. I want someone to look at me like my dad looked at my mom."

Puck forced a smile on his face and took a step backward. "I…I have to go," he stammered.

Kurt's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Okay. See you later?"

"Yeah. Later." And he bolted.

Puck wanted to go look up that song. He wanted to get started on Stage 3. But mostly, he wanted to find somewhere that he could breathe. Kurt's words felt like a punch to Puck's stomach. He wanted Kurt to have all of that. The romance, the sappy and cliché, the happily ever after…Kurt deserved it. Puck, however, didn't. He didn't deserve a damn thing but a kick in the head from Kurt Hummel. 

What if this animal courting crap was enough to interest Kurt, but not enough to hold him? What if, after the shine wore off, Kurt found Puck needed more polish than Kurt was willing to give? What if plain-old-Puck just wasn't enough? The what ifs were killing him.  
_____________________________________

"Kurt!" Puck called down the hallway. Kurt paused in his conversation with Mercedes and looked out over a sea of heads until his eyes caught on Puck's. A pleased smile crept over his face and he held a hand up in acknowledgement. 

Mercedes sighed. "When are you gonna give that boy a break, buttercup? You know he likes you. I know you like him. What are you waiting for?"

"This has to be his move, Mercedes," Kurt said, eyes not leaving the dark head bobbing through the crowd towards him. "He started it. If I don't let him finish it at his pace, he'll forever be able to say I pushed him into it."

Mercedes rolled her eyes. "Fine. Whatever. But, 'forever'? You planning on marrying the dude, or what? You're only a sophomore. Things change. I hope you aren't getting your heart set on him. He's a player. You can't trust him."

Kurt broke off his stare to turn an angry gaze on his friend. "Is there a reason you're being a bitch today?"

"I'm just being hon—"

"No. You're not. You're being judgmental."

Mercedes snorted. "Have you met Quinn? Or Rachel? Or Santana? Or, hey! How about those pool skanks?"

"Stop it, Mercedes," Kurt demanded. "Is he not allowed to change?"

"Oh, he's allowed to change." She held up her hands defensively. "But, he won't."

"You don't know that," Kurt persisted.

Mercedes shook her head resignedly. "Okay. Okay, fine. There are just some things you're going to have to experience on your own, I guess."

Kurt frowned. "Now you sound like my father." 

Puck popped out of the crowd right at Kurt's side. He looked a bit surprised when a smile and a nod to Mercedes resulted in an eyeroll on her part and an indignant huff on Kurt's. Kurt snagged his arm and began nearly dragging him down the hall. Puck glanced back to see Mercedes narrowing her eyes and the disapproving purse of her lips.

The music room was already full when Kurt pushed through the door, not stopping to hold it open for Mercedes. Puck spent the first half of practice warily avoiding Mercedes' proximity, even though he was pretty sure the looks she continued to shoot him could have killed him from a distance.

Toward the end of practice, Shue quieted everyone down and Puck felt his stomach begin to churn. "Okay, good job today." Shue clasped his hands together and smiled broadly. "Before we finish tying up this last bit of choreography, Puck has asked if he could present a song today." Quiet rumblings moved through the room, but Puck avoided eye contact, focusing on his shoelaces and not throwing up all over them. "It's a duet," Shue finished with a grin.

Rachel practically bounced in her chair. "Oh, I'd be happy to sing it with you, Puck. Our voices would complement one another nicely."

"You're not giving another piece to Rachel, are you?" Mercedes asked, disgustedly. Rachel blinked, mystified at the grumbling that follwed.

"Ah, actually," Shue said, cutting in before the arguing could begin, "Puck has already chosen his partner. So, I'm going to have them practice while we finish the choreography, and present just before class ends. So, Puck, if you would." Shue gestured to the group.

Puck stood and Kurt held his breath while people's eyes bounced from Rachel to Mercedes, even over to Quinn. Puck's eyes, however, settled on Kurt. "Kurt, if you're interested, I'd really like to sing this with you." The whispers picked up, but Puck ignored them. All he could see was the delight that spread over Kurt's face. 

Kurt nodded and stood. "Yeah," he returned softly. "I'd like that."

Puck grinned stupidly and told himself that bouncing on his toes would completely blow his image. He managed to abstain from bouncing, but there may have been a tiny skip in his step as he led Kurt over to the corner of the room to practice. He set a couple of chairs up across from each other and then handed Kurt the sheet music.

Before sitting, Kurt touched Puck on the arm. "Thank you for sharing this with me," he said sincerely. "It means a lot that you thought of me first."

Puck shrugged and wiped a speck of invisible dust from his guitar. "There's really no second," he admitted. "If you don't want to sing it with me, I'll just drop the song. I can't sing it with anyone else."

Kurt's face lit up in a faint blush and his stomach gave a flutter. Rather than trying to respond, he just looked at the music Puck had handed him. His brows drew in as he skimmed the page, flipping it over and back again. "Puck, this is…" Kurt couldn't force words through the lump in his throat. He clutched the page to his chest and stepped forward into Puck's space. Standing on tiptoe, he dropped a barely-there kiss on Puck's cheek. Puck tried to go with an 'aw, shucks' look, but he couldn't stop the pleased grin that took over his face. 

Kurt blinked rapidly, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but he still felt his eyes filling up. "I…uh, I need to…" He fell silent and waved vaguely in the direction of the classroom door.

Puck reached out worriedly and caught Kurt's sleeve. "Kurt…?"

Apparently unable to control any part of his body, Kurt raised a finger to smooth out the frown line between Puck's brow. "Yes, Puck. I would love to sing this song with you," he whispered. "There's no way I'm going to let anyone else sing this with you." 

Puck's smile crept back on his face. "Okay. Go on, do whatever you need to do. I'll just mess around with some chords." Kurt headed for the door, trying to wipe his eyes covertly, hoping no one would notice him leaving. Once the door shut behind him, however, the others rounded on Puck.

"Why the hell did my boy just run out of here crying?" Mercedes demanded, pushing into Puck's space.

"He just…really liked the song, I guess." Puck shrugged.

"Oh, did he, now? And what song was that?" Puck sighed, realizing that Mercedes wasn't going to be siderailed. He held out the sheet for inspection. Mercedes snatched it out of his hand and the others crowded around her.

Rachel frowned. "This is quite the…odd choice for you, Puck. You do know that traditionally, a man and a woman perform this?"

Puck seized the paper again. "I would think that you, of all people, could understand that it doesn't have to be traditional. Just heartfelt." Rachel's eyes widened and she glanced questioningly at Mercedes.

Mercedes just sighed and shook her head. "Don't ask, girlfriend. I don't have the week to explain just how weird the two of them have been."

"But, to properly sing—"

Mercedes took Rachel's arm and dragged her back out of the corner. The others followed suit. "Let it go, gold star. Just let them have it." Rachel went with her, but kept glancing over her shoulder in confusion.

Kurt came back in moments later, dry-eyed, smiling and ready to perform. He and Puck practiced together for about 15 minutes. Kurt, of course, knew the song by heart; Puck had practiced it solo a hundred times the night before. When they agreed they were ready, Mr. Shue herded the others to their seats and took center stage with a huge grin.   
"And now, for your enjoyment and consideration, Puck and Kurt singing Up Where We Belong".

Nobody made a sound as the two boys began to sing. It was blatantly clear within moments that Puck wasn't just singing the song. He was singing it to Kurt; His eyes were locked on Kurt, and he knew he had the stupidest smile plastered all over his face. But that didn't matter, because Kurt replied in kind with tiny, shy smiles in between his parts.

As the last note died away, the room exploded in clapping, whistling and cheering.  
The other singers flocked around the two boys, heartily slapping Puck on the back—Mike, Matt and Artie—or jumping up and down in front of Kurt—the girls and, strangely enough, Finn. But neither of them gave their full attention to their friends. Both were busy sending smitten looks to one another.

Mercedes took a step back from Kurt's side and looked between the two of them. "Well, crap, she sighed. "This means I have to start being nice to the asshole."  
___________________________________

The smitten kitten crap didn't stop. As a matter of fact, Puck now had to practice daily in front of his mirror to maintain his badass look. He'd narrow his eyes, slouch just so and raise one eyebrow. Then, he'd remember Kurt telling him that he was going to cause premature lines if he didn't quit pulling faces and, for God's sake, stop hunching over. Scoliosis is a real thing, and then Puck's badassness would fade away into a stupid grin. 

It was during one of these smile/smirk/glare/grin moments that Puck decided what the fourth step in Operation: Woo was going to be. Seahorses. He read all about their mating dance; promenading around the water with their tails linked just like holding hands. He thought this translated nicely to regular dancing and, well…there was only one real solution to that.

"Hey." Puck smiled, ducking his head and shoving his hands into his pockets. He leaned against the locker next to Kurt's.

"Hey." Kurt returned the smile, melting at the adorableness of a shy Puck.

"Um…are, uh…are you going to Prom?" Puck managed to look everywhere but at Kurt who finished putting away his books and turned to face him. 

"I don't know, yet. Mercedes wants to go, but I really don't want to spend three hours at a badly decorated table, drinking spiked punch and watching everyone else having the time of their lives." He looked out at the hallway teeming with people who would be going to prom and told himself he didn't care.

"Oh." Puck's shoulders drooped a fraction. Kurt rethought his ennui.

"You're going, though, right?"

"That kind of depended on the person I want to go with saying yes."

Kurt snorted. "Of course, she'll say yes. You're Noah Puckerman." Kurt smiled, trying not to grit his teeth and turn it into a growl.

Puck shrugged. "That really hasn't held me in good standing these last few months."

Kurt waved it off. "You're different now. You have been for a while."

"A kinder, gentler version?" Puck laughed.

"Sort of." Kurt smiled and smacked Puck's arm. "Stop laughing at me. Anyway, don't worry. Your date will want to come."

"I hope so."

"Have you asked yet?"

"No, I haven't actually asked. I've been testing the waters, you could say."

"Well? Are the waters amenable?" Kurt prepared for the worst. Santana? Quinn? Rachel? He couldn't believe how much he hated his new friends at the moment.

"I don't know. I guess I'm about to find out." Puck took a deep breath. "Will you go with me?"

Kurt blinked, dumbfounded. "What?"

Puck went from nervously hesitant to rambling moron in about two seconds. "I know; it's kind of sudden. But, I've been thinking about it for a long time. I'd do it right; I promise. I'll pick you up, and wear whatever you want me to wear. We can go to dinner. I promise it won't be lame fast food. And I'm sure there's some after Prom party we could crash, and—"

Kurt cut him off with two fingers to his lips. Puck bit the inside of his cheek hard to keep from leaving a kiss on Kurt's fingers. "You want to go to Prom…with me?" Kurt asked, confusion written on his face. Puck just nodded, his lips skimming Kurt's fingers. "With me?" Kurt repeated.

Puck reached up and gently tugged Kurt's hand down, cupping it into his own. "Kurt, I don't know if you've noticed, but I've spent a lot of time over the last few weeks trying to get you to notice me."

Kurt's expression softened. "I've always noticed you, Noah," he said, quietly.

Puck shook his head. "Not in the 'oh, shit here he comes; where can I hide' way. I really like you. I like you a lot."

Kurt's eyes were suspiciously shiny and his chin trembled. "But Prom is really public, Noah," Kurt whispered.

Puck frowned and took a half step backwards. Hurt crept into his voice when he asked, "Are you ashamed to be seen with me? Because I was such a dick?"

"No!" Kurt closed the distance between them. "I just meant…" He ducked his head, and Puck hooked a finger under his chin to pull it back up.

"You think I'm ashamed of you?" Puck asked incredulously. "Kurt, I shaved my head for you. I learned cheesy 80's songs for you. I dressed up my locker like some emo douche so you could see I wasn't all badass. I'm not ashamed of people knowing I like you. I want them to know. Cause you're mine and I don't want to share."

Kurt's smile felt like the sun coming out. "Oh," he said, quietly. "In that case…"

"So you'll go with me?" Puck asked. "Be my date?"

"I will."

And that was that.  
_________________________________

Kurt panicked for the next two weeks, uncertain if he should make a statement with his clothes choices or let the fact that he was going to Prom with a guy make the statement for him. In the end, he realized that it didn't matter how fantastic he looked, what mattered was that Puck wanted to go with him. Puck might have been trying to forget that homophobia existed at McKinley, but Kurt couldn't. The least he could do was tone down the amount of misery Puck would have heaped upon him.

On the night of the Prom, Burt Hummel sat in front of the TV pretending to be interested in a documentary. In actuality, he was listening to his son panicking. Kurt rushed through the living room on seven separate occasions. He took three showers. Burt heard 12 dull thuds as Kurt threw something against the wall—Burt's guess? Shoes. He heard Kurt's high-pitched voice shrilly demanding answers from someone on the phone no fewer than six times—Burt was going with Mercedes on that one. And Kurt produced at least three strangled screams that Burt could only assume were delivered into his pillow.

Burt kept an eye on his watch and an eye on the driveway. 5:58 brought a beat up old pickup pulling in behind Kurt's Navigator. Burt was at the door, hand on the knob and waiting when Kurt's date rang the bell. He jerked the door open and nearly blew it all by laughing at the startled fear that raced across the boy's face. To the kid's credit, he pulled himself together quickly and offered his hand.

"Hi, I'm Noah Puckerman. Um…Puck. I'm here to pick up your son."

Burt looked down his nose at the extended hand—he'd learned a thing or two from Kurt as well. The Puckerman kid's face fell and his hand had already begun to lower when Burt grasped it in a firm handshake.

Burt looked beyond him. "That your truck out there?"

Puck followed Burt's gaze over his shoulder and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Not much to look at," Burt drawled, leaning on the doorframe.

Puck blushed. "Maybe not, but it runs just fine."

Burt nodded slowly. "When does prom start?"

"Eight."

Burt's eyebrow rose. "So why are you here so early? It's only six."

"I'm taking Kurt out to dinner."

"Where?"

"Figaro's?"

Burt pursed his lips and nodded. "Kurt's been going on and on about that place. When does the dance get over?"

Puck hesitated. "Eleven, but I was hoping to take him out, afterward."

Burt snorted. "What, like for a piece of pie?"

Puck blushed, but Burt had to give him credit once more. He lifted his chin and returned, "Yeah, actually."

"And how long do you need for this…after dance snack?"

"I dunno, maybe an hour?"

"An hour?" Burt barked out a laugh. "That's some good piece of pie, I expect."

He was surprised when Puck smiled shyly. "No, just good company."

Burt grunted. Kid had moves on him. "And what time are you planning to have him home?"

"When would you like him home?" Another left field response. Burt was actually starting to like this little punk. 

"Are there gonna be any after prom parties?"

Puck shrugged. "Probably, yeah."

"And you aren't taking Kurt to one?"

"Well…" Puck stumbled over his words. "If Kurt wants to go, sure, we can find one to go to. If that's all right with you, of course?" Fast on his feet, this one. That was either an indication of too much practice with too many dads…or he was really willing to do whatever it took for Burt to like him.

"How about this," Burt offered. "You have him home at midnight after the dance and your…very good pie, and you can hang out here with him. Maybe pop in a couple of movies, order a late night pizza or something."

Puck lit up. "Really? That'd be awesome!"

And score one for reason number two.

Kurt stampeded up the stairs, making an ungodly amount of noise for someone as small as he was. "What would be awesome?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes at Burt.

"I was just telling Puck here that he's gonna have you home at midnight." Burt grinned, crossing his arms.

Kurt looked pissed. "Dad, that's unreasonable. I'm sixteen—"

"And," his dad loudly overrode him, "that you two can hang out watching movies and having pizza or something."

Kurt huffed and looked apologetically at Puck. He was surprised to see Puck smiling excitedly. "You approve of this ridiculousness?" Kurt asked, incredulously.

Puck frowned. "Yeah, why?"

"You're Noah Puckerman. Won't the world stop turning if you miss an after-party?" Kurt smirked.

Puck shrugged. "Fu—uh, screw them." He glanced quickly at Burt. "I'd rather spend time with you."

"Oh." Kurt smiled shyly.

"Wait!" Puck blurted out, scrabbling in his pocket. "I got something for you." He pulled out a box.

"That had better not be a wrist corsage," Kurt warned.

Puck grinned, shaking his head as he opened the box up. He pulled out a perfect white daisy nestled in a spray of baby's breath and deep green leaves. He smiled when both Kurt and Burt caught their breath. "You never told me your favorite flower," he said, apologetically, "but I remembered you talking about your…" He hesitated, looking warily at Burt, "…your mom and dad. When you mentioned what flowers they had at their wedding, you looked so happy. I thought maybe—"

Kurt looked like he was about to start crying, and Burt sniffed once and looked away. Puck looked from one to the other, concerned. "Um…I'm really sorry if I fu—er screwed up. I just thought—"

Kurt cut him off as he stepped closer and kissed him on the cheek. "No. Don't be sorry. It's perfect," he whispered. Puck attached it to Kurt's lapel and Kurt ran back downstairs to grab a jacket from the closet. 

While he was gone, Burt held his hand out again. Puck hoped like hell that his hands weren't too sweaty, but he was surprised when Burt pressed something into them. Burt leaned in closer, and Puck nervously mirrored him. "Dinner is on me," he said quietly. "You just make sure he has fun."

Puck looked up wide-eyed and nodded. "Thank you, sir."

Kurt clomped back upstairs, his coat thrown over an arm. "You look really…amazing," Puck said softly.

Kurt ducked his head and smiled. "Thank you." Puck held his arm out and, giggling, Kurt took it. 

They hadn't made it too far when Burt called out, "Wait."

Puck turned nervously, and Burt tossed something shiny at him. He automatically snatched it out of the air and then glanced down to see a set of keys. 

"You bring it back with one scratch on it..." Burt said threateningly.

Puck looked from the keys to the driveway. Sitting next to Kurt's Navigator was a shining black Escalade. His eyes widened. "Thank you, sir," he managed.

Burt felt a tiny pang of sadness as Puck opened Kurt's door for him. It had been just the two of them for so long. Even though he realized that he couldn't keep Kurt all to himself, he so wanted to. Only the excitement written all over Kurt's face kept Burt still. He watched until they'd driven out of sight before he stepped back into the house with a small smile and quietly shut the door.  
__________________________________________

Dinner went off flawlessly. Puck was a perfect gentleman, and Kurt found it hard not to stare dreamily across the table at him. The one time Puck caught him, Kurt blushed furiously and sank a bit further into his chair. Puck scooted his feet forward and wound his legs around Kurt's. When Kurt glanced up again, Puck was staring back at him, just as dreamily, and by the time they walked out of the restaurant, Kurt was flying high.

Sadly, the excitement faded slightly as Puck pulled into the school's parking lot. Turning off the car, Puck looked over to see his shining-faced, bouncing-in-place date replaced with a terrified Kurt who shrank back into his seat and had the air of a cornered animal. He frowned, "What's wrong?" 

Kurt turned wide eyes on him. "Maybe we shouldn't do this."

"What? Hell no!" Puck turned sideways and leaned in to look intensely at a fidgeting Kurt. "We are going to go in there. We are going to have some punch and feed each other mini hot dogs on a stick. We are going to dance our asses off and we are going to have the time of our lives."

"But—"

"And if anyone," Puck overrode him, "Fucks with my perfect Prom night, that person will be picking himself up out of the nastiest garbage can I can find, so he can limp his fucked up ass to the fucking hospital!"

Kurt stared wide eyed at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. Puck looked wary, but smiled along. "What?"

"Your idea of a perfect Prom includes mini hot dogs on a stick?" Kurt snorfled.

"No, it contains you," Puck grinned. "The lil weenies on sticks are just a bonus." Kurt practically melted and his jitteriness was gone, just like that. Puck hurried them out of the Escalade before Kurt changed his mind. Kurt hung off of Puck's arm, giving him that dreamy smile the whole way through the parking lot, but Puck felt his grip tighten the nearer they came to the building. 

At the entrance, Puck held the door open, giving Kurt a small bow from the waist. Kurt laughed nervously and was quick to retake Puck's arm. At the check in table, Puck handed their tickets over—to a member of the chess club, Puck thought. The awed girl automatically processed the tickets and handed them back without taking her eyes off the two of them. When Puck smiled and said, "Thank you," she squeaked and jerked her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Uh, don't forget your voting ballot," she mumbled, pushing two pieces of paper across the table at them. Kurt plucked them up neatly, and began skimming the entries while Puck wrapped an arm around his shoulder and steered him toward the thumping bass sounds. Once inside, Puck scanned the room. Several Cheerios were already campaigning for queen. A grouping of jocks clustered around the buffet table. They obviously thought they were managing to be sneaky, but they really couldn't have been more obvious. They were giggling like their dates, which only emphasized that they'd walked in already drunk.

A cluster of teachers and chaperones stood by the stage frantically whispering amongst themselves, more than likely forming a plan of action on how to get the unruly jocks away from the punch bowl. Puck snorted and shook his head. If they'd just turn around, they could have nipped that one in the bud. In the far corner of the room, he glimpsed Tina spinning Artie in circles while Rachel and Mercedes laughed hysterically. Matt and Mike were surprisingly sitting next to them, smiling fondly. 

Puck's hand slid down from Kurt's shoulder, catching Kurt's fingers up with his own. Kurt blinked in surprise at their linked hands and let Puck pull him through the crowd on the dance floor. They broke through to the other side, and Puck wove past the last few tables. Rachel spotted them first and her eyes lit up. She elbowed Mercedes. Mercedes glared at her before following her eyes across the tables. She honed in on Kurt and Puck's linked fingers immediately, and her eyes widened before a smile spread over her face as well.

"Oh my God, boy, you look amazing!" Mercedes squealed. 

"And you look positively divine," Kurt returned, holding Mercedes' hand as he twirled her around to look at the whole dress. He draped his jacket over the back of a chair and sat himself down, giving Puck a raised eyebrow.

Puck rolled his eyes and grinned. "I may not know much about dating a guy, but I do know the signal for 'go get me a drink so I can gossip." Kurt stuck his tongue out but promptly pulled Mercedes down into the chair next to him and leaned in, heads close. By the time Puck had made it to the punch bowl, Tina and Rachel had joined the giggling group.

While Puck got them their drinks, the girls turned on Kurt. "OMG," Mercedes said, eyes wide, "he really did it."

Kurt nodded, a proud smile on his face. "He did everything that goes with it, too."

"Really?" Tina asked skeptically. Kurt nodded. "Picked you up?"

"Yes."

"Said more than three words to your dad?" Rachel asked.

"Dad likes him." Kurt beamed. "He invited him back tonight after the dance."

"What?" 

"He said we could watch movies and order pizza."

The girls all stared wide-eyed at one another. "That's…that's…" Tina fluttered her hands helplessly.

"I know!" Kurt clapped his hand over his mouth to keep from squealing and then stood to accept hugs from all three girls.

Puck approached with a grin and after setting a glass of punch for Kurt on the table, he dropped down into a chair. Kurt moved to sit by his date, but Puck tugged on his arm and pulled him off balance. As Kurt wobbled, Puck wrapped his long arms around Kurt's waist and hauled him into his lap. Kurt nervously darted a glance at the other gleeks, but all he received were huge grins. By the time Brittany and Santana arrived, choosing to sit at their fellow Gleeks' table, he'd relaxed into the circle of Puck's arms. He allowed his head fall back on Puck's shoulder. 

Kurt was having so much fun, feeling so included—something he'd never imagined he'd ever feel at a dance—that he didn't even realize they hadn't danced. Not until the DJ lowered the music, and Brittany squeaked in excitement. She waved frantically at the rest of the group, shutting them up.

"Yes, Brittany? What is it?" Mercedes rolled her eyes.

Brittany demurely folded her hands over her knee. "I think the DJ might be playing a special request."

"A request? What request? What did you do, Brittany?" Kurt narrowed his eyes at her as she wiggled in her seat.

"You all having fun out there?" the DJ interrupted him. Whistles and screams were his answer. "Good! Now, I have a special request here, and it's something I haven't heard in a long time. Kurt and Puck…this goes out to you!" Kurt glared at Brittany, who just grinned, but when the first notes of Up Where We Belong came out of the speakers, and Kurt turned to Puck, they only had eyes for each other. 

Puck stood and extended his hand, bowing over it and shooting Kurt a wicked, smoldering look from beneath his lashes. Kurt's breath caught and he took Puck's hand, allowing Puck to pull him onto the dance floor. Had they cared, they would have noticed they were the only ones on the dance floor. The other dancers had formed a circle of bodies around them, some staring in shock, others in delight. They didn't care, though. Kurt wrapped his arms around Puck's neck and Puck slid his arms around Kurt's waist. They began to sway slowly, staring into one another's eyes, completely oblivious to their audience. 

Over by the punch bowl, Azimio, Fancher and Ames exchanged looks of disgust and made a beeline for the dance floor. Santana headed them off. Stepping in front of the slightly weaving boys, she turned her attention to Azimio. She tugged him down to her level by his lapels. "Azimio, you'd best take your drunk ass and your stupid friends back over to that side of the room," she warned. "Whatever homo bashing douchebaggery you have planned for tonight? Forget it. Come near Puck or Kurt at any point tonight, and you will crawl away sobbing and bruised; and I will make it a point to prevent you from getting a single piece of ass for the rest of your high school existence. Is that clear?" She smiled sweetly and patted down the rucked up lapel.

She wasn't lying. Too bad he didn't believe her. 

He sneered in her face, but she just rolled her eyes and moved to sit back down. Thoroughtly pissed, Azimio headed back to the punch bowl. He continued to watch, and as soon as Santana was occupied in a conversation with Matt, Azimio and his cronies circled around the room and came up on the other side of the dance floor. They shoved bodies aside ignoring the indignant protests of the other dancers. Just as they reached the inner ring of observers, Azimio caught his foot on something. His eyes widened and he threw his hands out in front to catch his fall, but he still face planted on the floor within the cleared out circle. 

Puck and Kurt didn't even turn their heads, but the rest of the room burst into laughter. Red-faced, Azimio pushed himself up to his knees and angrily looked around for the soon-to-be-dead bastard that had tripped him. What he saw was an innocently smiling Brittany standing next to an extremely angry Figgins.

"I hope he didn't break that bottle of alcohol in his pocket when he fell," Brittany said solemnly. "Oh!" She brightened. "I bet he gave it to one of his friends! They're right there." She pointed Azimio's henchmen out to Figgins. Figgins narrowed his eyes and pointed to the door. Azimio finished picking himself up and shoved past Brittany, shoulder checking her as he went. He didn't stop to see the half-dozen hands reach out to steady her and pat her on the back. Figgins jerked his head at the other two boys, and they slunk out the doors behind their leader.

Beaming, Brittany skipped her way back to the Gleek table and sat down next to a proudly smiling Santana. They high-fived and then settled down together, pinkies linked. After a moment, Brittany sighed happily. Santana raised a curious eyebrow. Brittany laid her head on Santana's shoulder and replied, "They look just like seahorses."   
_____________________________________________

Prom night had been perfect. Puck had been perfect. Puck was perfect, and Kurt was more than willing to share that with anyone who asked—and some who didn't. He floated through the rest of the weekend on such a high that Burt considered asking if he'd experimented with drugs. Nothing could bring Kurt down. Not the everyday slurs and shoving. Not even the extra special nastiness that came from going to Prom as a male couple. Figgins suspending Azimio and his hoodlum friends for drinking at Prom was just icing on the cake. 

Except that now, Puck was avoiding him. He wasn't waiting for Kurt before school. He didn't even go to his locker, and Kurt would know; he was five minutes late to first period because he lingered there waiting for Puck to show. Kurt caught sight of him in some of his classes, hunched down in the back row, refusing to make eye contact, but when the bell rang, Puck bolted out of the room before Kurt could even gather up his books.

By lunchtime, Kurt was devastated. He barely managed to hold the tears back when Mercedes and Rachel bracketed him supportively at the lunch table. He seriously considered going home. It wouldn't be a lie to say he was sick. He truly did feel like throwing up. He'd just turned to Mercedes to tell her his new afternoon plan when the roar of the lunch crowd dimmed to a faint murmur. Brow wrinkled, he looked around to see what the lack of hubbub was about. Then, he wished he had just skipped lunch altogether and texted Mercedes his message. 

Across the cafeteria, determined frown and all, Noah Puckerman strode past the muttering masses, zeroing in on Kurt. Once they'd locked eyes, Puck's frown melted into a smile and Kurt had to pinch himself to keep from unwittingly returning it. Puck came to a stop directly in front of Kurt, paying no attention to the twin glares he received from Mercedes and Rachel. He spun Kurt's chair around to face him causing Kurt to squeak and grab onto the sides. Then, Puck dropped to a crouch and placed his hands on Kurt's knees.

"You have a lot of balls, Noah Puckerman," Mercedes snapped. "I can fix that for you." Puck completely ignored her, continuing to smile up at Kurt as his fingers stroked Kurt's denim covered thigh. 

"What do you want, Puck?" Kurt asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not stupid. I got the message."

Puck frowned. "What message?"

Kurt gave a dry laugh. "Uh, the one where you ignore me and pretend that Prom or the last few weeks didn't happen."

"I wasn't ignoring you, Kurt," Puck protested.

"Ah." Kurt nodded. "So, running from me; refusing to make eye contact; those are all just seduction techniques?"

Puck blushed and glanced down at his hands, which hadn't stopped tracing circles over Kurt's legs. "Er…no, that was actually me being a chickenshit bastard."

"Yeah, well, don't worry about it. I'll save you the trouble of telling me," Kurt responded bitterly.

Puck pursed his lips, looking critically at Kurt's red-rimmed eyes and the tremble in his chin. "Okay, I fucked up. I understand that." The muscle on his jaw clenched slightly at Mercedes' snort. "I had something important to tell you, and I didn't know how, so I took the low road and avoided you until I figured out how to say it." He slid his hands over Kurt's thigh, noting the hitch in Kurt's breath, and twined their fingers together. At first, Kurt tried to pull away, but Puck held on; when Kurt had given up and let his hands lay limply in Puck's, Puck transferred them both into one of his own and scrabbled in his jeans pocket with the other.

He triumphantly pulled out a small pebble and grinned back up at Kurt. "I need to admit to something, and then I need to tell you a story," he said. Kurt frowned, shaking his head. "I won't take no for an answer," Puck added. With a sigh, Kurt gave up and just stared over Puck's shoulder.

"So, first the admitting thing." Puck took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "For the past few weeks I've been trying to get you to notice me. But, you ran from me, or acted like I was some kind of stalker." Kurt opened his mouth to comment but Puck silenced him with a quick, 'Sh'. "I know, hiding behind the water fountain was sort of creepy, and I'm sorry about that. But, I was just so frustrated that you wouldn't see past the asshole I'd always been to you.

"So. I came up with a plan. I even named it. I called it Operation: Woo." He gave Rachel the stink-eye at her tiny snicker. "I was thumbing through my Biology book and thinking how to get you to notice me. Then, it hit me. Animals have to put on a show in order to get a mate to notice them. Maybe I could do the same. So, I did." 

He shrugged. "It sounds kind of stupid, I know. But it was working." He looked pleadingly up into Kurt's eyes. "I know it was working. I know you were starting to feel something for me, too. Then, I got to this last step and got really freaked out, and I screwed it up. I know that, and I'm sorry." He stroked the soft skin on Kurt's wrists.

"I have one last step to go in my wooing of Kurt Hummel." He turned Kurt's wrist over and leaned down to place a soft kiss on it, hope uncurling in his chest as Kurt brushed his fingers over Puck's throat. "The last animal I picked is the Adele penguin." Next to Kurt, Rachel gave a small squeak and slapped her hands over her mouth to contain herself. Shooting a smirk at her, Puck continued. 

"The Adele penguin does this thing where one of them gives a special rock to the other, and if the other likes him back and wants to be with him, he takes the rock. If he doesn't, he walks away, and that's the end of it." He swallowed nervously and held up the hand with the small pebble safely ensconced within. "I want to give this rock to you, Kurt Hummel, and I'm hoping you will accept it. Before I give it to you, though, I need you to know where it came from." 

He cleared his throat and squeezed Kurt's hands. "Back when we first met, I was kind of a dick to you. To a lot of people, actually, but I really focused on you. You kind of scared me, to tell the truth. You were this untouchable ice prince. Nothing I said or did ever seemed to knock you off your game, but the first time I upped the bullying to the dumpster tossing, I saw you lose it. It was just that once, and you never lost it again, but that first time, you were furious.

"You were wearing a white pair of pants, and when I tossed you in, I didn't remember that the day before was spaghetti day in the cafeteria. Your pants weren't just dirty, I actually ruined them. Oh, my God, you were so pissed." Puck grinned at the memory and Kurt made a face at him. "You were so mad that, when you climbed out, you grabbed up a handful of gravel and chucked it at me. I tossed you in again for it. When I got home that day, I took my flannel shirt off and found a rock…this rock." He held his hand up and smiled at the little stone. "And I thought about what I'd done. If someone had done that to my little sister, I'd have killed him. I wondered if you had anyone to defend you. I felt pretty crappy about that. So, I put this rock in my dresser drawer. I have no idea why. Maybe a reminder? Maybe something else.

"Then, I started Glee. I started spending time with you. I started realizing how I felt about you; why I picked on you. I guess then is when my stalker mode came on. Sorry about scaring you. When I got this idea for the animal thing, I remembered this rock; I guess I had saved it for something important after all."

Kurt's eyes had begun to shine and his mouth quirked at the corner. Puck let go of his hands and cupped both of his around the tiny stone. He offered it up. "I know I was an asshole, a horrible person, but I understand how wrong I was and I want a chance to prove to you how I've changed," Puck pleaded. "So, Kurt Hummel, would you be my boyfriend?"

Twin sappy sighs echoed from both sides, and Kurt leaned forward to inspect the rock. "If I don't take it, you walk away and leave me alone?" Kurt asked, and Puck's stomach dropped. 

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and nodded. "Yeah. If that's what you want," he whispered.

Kurt narrowed his eyes and looked critically at Puck. "Really? You'd never bother me again?" Puck nodded, unable to look into Kurt's eyes anymore. "Hmph." He poked a finger at the rock. "Well," he sighed. "It's not exactly a diamond, but I suppose we can work with it."

Puck looked up cautiously. "Seriously? You're taking it?"

Kurt grinned and plucked the rock out of Puck's hands. "I'm taking it. And I'm putting it someplace much nicer than your nasty old sock drawer," he added. 

Puck didn't argue. He didn't say anything at all. He just lunged forward and captured Kurt's lips in a gentle kiss. The clapping and cheering caused them to smile into the kiss, and when they pulled away, Kurt didn't go far. He rolled his forehead over Puck's and nuzzled his cheek with his nose. 

"Operation: Woo is a success," he whispered. "But from now on, you're not allowed to name things."


End file.
